


Sleeping Lessons.

by AlyssaKendall



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Implied Relationships, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, One Shot, POV Dean Winchester, POV Second Person, Sam is asleep the whole time, Sleeping Together, angels don't need to sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 10:38:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2106612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyssaKendall/pseuds/AlyssaKendall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That time Dean asked Castiel to literally sleep beside him. A fair bit of dialogue. Second-person, Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Lessons.

_"A million miles an hour, we swallow dotted lines tonight; Tearing through this ghost town, they haunt the lifeless streets; Tonight will pass us by, as the world it seems to disappear, but I'm asleep at the wheel..."_ \-- Story of the Year

 

You’re lying down. Of course it’s warm in the hotel room tonight and the rickety, old and dusty air conditioner is barely able to keep up with the warm and humid temperatures. It’s only Baltimore, but already there’s talk of triple-digit temperatures when all you own are jeans. It’s fine though, you think. A cool breeze as you roll down the highway with open windows, it won’t be so bad. Right now, you think, it’s a perfect night for sleeping shirtless.

Of course you remember moments later that he’s here too, and you roll your eyes a bit as he stands both looking deep in thought and absent mindedly before closing the bathroom door from which he’d just emerged. Angels, as it seems still need to brush their teeth. And it’s strange, you think, to see him without a trench coat. 

“Too warm for you too, huh, Cas?” 

“I do not feel external temperatures as you feel them,” comes the response. Oh, of course, you think. Right. How silly of you. 

“Oh, right, I uh just, it’s a little funny to see you without a coat on, is all,” you respond. 

He nods, before walking closer, sitting at the edge of your bed and you wonder if he even understands what you mean when you say the word ‘funny.’ Does he assume he looks comical, or does he understand the implications of what you meant as ‘strange?’ It’s a question you don’t care to ask, and quite frankly you don’t care if you never get an answer. 

It’s more interesting to you, in a way that he sits at the edge of your bed. 

“Cas, what are you doing?” 

He’s never chosen to perch there. And not that you feel violated or anything, but it’s a little weird to have him there. Usually he’s sitting at the table in the room, keeping a close guard. More often, he isn’t there at all. Cas is still learning what it means to have “personal space” along with many other facets of human culture and biology--for example, the need to physically sleep once in a blue moon. If it hasn’t applied to him in the past, it seems to elude him in the present. What the hell, you think, were the earth angels doing all the damn time anyway? You’d think they’d have recognized a basic need or two. 

“I am waiting,” comes the response. Again, you think. Of course.

“Well can you wait somewhere else?” you hear yourself asking. It comes out more abruptly than you mean for it.

“Certainly.” The word sounds soft for him. Quickly, he’s standing, heading for the table and chairs. 

“Whoa whoa whoa,” you hear yourself quickly adding, “I didn’t mean to sound like a prick, it’s just…you now, humans kinda find it weird to have people watching them while they sleep. Makes it feel like they’re gonna get wasted, or—y’know, worse.” You make a face with your teeth clenched, and you’re sure a creeper joke goes far above and beyond his head. Cas, you think, could probably easily be mistaken as a class-5 creeper.

“Why would I intend to do such a thing after it is I who had risk--- “ oh god, you think, not this again.

“Cas, Cas stop. I know the story! I’m just giving you a little friendly advice is all!” 

“Oh,” he says blankly. “I am sorry.”

You nod against your pillow and you mean to sigh, but it’s most certainly a yawn. You’re kind of impressed that Sam has managed to sleep through all of this at this point, but not really because honestly Sam slept through yours and Dad’s snoring for the majority of first eighteen years of his life. You need to sleep, you think. You need to sleep without Cas staring at you. Actually, you need a lot of things, and the list goes on, and your mind wanders, and you’re never going to actually sleep at this rate. You’re thinking of other things all while an angel eyes you. And that’s kind of awesome, like a righteous body guard, except for the part where it’s also a little weird. 

“Cas,” you hear yourself saying again, and you don’t even know why this time, “have you ever _tried_ to sleep?” 

“Sleep is not a concept with which I am capable,” comes the monotone response. “As this vessel must rest, it is so that I can willfully restore it.” 

“Yeah, well…you ever think that maybe J—“ you stop yourself immediately before you cross a line. It’s hardly a save at all. “—nevermind.” 

“You were to ask if this man desires rest.” It comes out as a statement, not a question.

“Er, something like that, but uh…let’s not discuss it anymore, shall we?” 

“As you wish.” It’s like you can _feel_ him nodding from over there. 

“Well…why don’t you try, Cas?” It sounds a lot dumber when you say it out loud than it originally sounded in your head. But you’re in this far now and so you decide that you might as well keep going. “You know, try to sleep? You can lay down here, there’s…there’s enough room.” 

“That will not be necessary, Dean. Thank you.” 

You shrug. “Suit yourself, but uh, I still think you should try.” Damn it, now you’ve committed to this thing.

“You are asking that I lie down beside you to rest?” That time it does sound like a question.

“Well when you put it _that_ way it sounds a little dirty, but uh, yeah, I mean. Unless you wanna lay next to Sam, that might be kinda hilarious when he wakes up in the morning!” You’re smiling, and for a second you’re pretty sure that he might be too. “Come on, give it the old college try!” 

“Dean, there are no higher education establishments in relation to our conversation.” 

“Shut up, Cas, I know that! Now are you coming over or not?”

“Would you prefer I did?” 

“Don’t flip this back on me! I’m only suggesting you try it! See if it does your—your _vessel_ any good.” 

“I have previously explained that such is not a necessary endeavor. I can simply rest—“ 

“Okay, okay, fine! Suit yourself!” You pause, a small sigh. He can be exhausting sometimes, you think. And now you can hear him standing up, and it’s all you can do to bring your hand to your forehead as you mutter, “It’s a figure of speech, Cas, you don’t actually have to put on a suit— _oh_.”

Suddenly he’s lying down next you, as you roll a bit toward the opposite side for a moment. It’s a sensation you weren’t expecting, but it certainly isn’t unwelcome. You know there’s a lopsided grin on your face. 

“This is what you have requested, is it not?”

“Whatever you say.” Another stupid grin. God, you’re an idiot sometimes. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding as you sink back down into the rickety old mattress, the scratchy sheets, and the lumpy pillow.

“And now what?” He asks. You swear you can hear a hint of condescending. 

“You close your eyes, and you let yourself relax.” It’s the only explanation you know.

“Like this?” 

You can’t see him, but you respond anyway. “Yeah.”

“It is…a slow process.”

“Yeah, funny, it never feels that way to me.” 

He’s finally silent, and you realize for a moment how _golden_ that really is. You roll onto your side, facing him. He’s on his back, his eyes closed. Chest rising and falling. You’re positive he’s still awake, but at least now he finally _looks_ relaxed. It’s kind of nice for a change. 

And what’s more is that, it’s kind of nice to share your bed with someone other than a girl from a single night in the bar, a wannabe stripper, or a pool hall wench. And maybe, you think, that’s not so bad. If Cas felt like laying down more often, you’d share with him. 

It’s only a few more moments where you have conscious thought before you’re slipping off, away. A dreamless sleep, like so many other nights before. And if the nightmares come, you won’t worry, because you have an angel at your side.


End file.
